


Romantic Stylez

by Impossibly_Izzy



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, Touches on everything from Charges and Specs to AC/DC, idiots to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-10-26 23:30:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impossibly_Izzy/pseuds/Impossibly_Izzy
Summary: Jake walked out onto the lamplit street with his heart in his throat and a cardboard box in his arms. Charles was there, like Jake had hoped he would be. He still looked ridiculous, in his black post-breakup getup with one hand wrapped in bandages. Jake wished it made more of a difference to how he was feeling, wished it could distract him.‘Hey,’ Charles said.Jake shifted the box in his hands. He had had to clear out everything from his desk, everything that proved he belonged at the Nine-Nine. ‘So,’ he said, desperately trying to sound casual. ‘I’m leaving.’





	1. Chapter 1

Jake walked out onto the lamplit street with his heart in his throat and a cardboard box in his arms. Charles was there, like Jake had hoped he would be. He still looked ridiculous, in his black post-breakup getup with one hand wrapped in bandages. Jake wished it made more of a difference to how he was feeling, wished it could distract him.

‘Hey,’ Charles said.

Jake shifted the box in his hands. He had had to clear out everything from his desk, everything that proved he belonged at the Nine-Nine. ‘So,’ he said, desperately trying to sound casual. ‘I’m leaving.’

‘I don’t know what we’re gonna do without you,’ Charles said, but Jake couldn’t focus. He had something to say, and he couldn’t think about anything else.

‘I don’t know what’s gonna happen on this mission,’ he said, quickly, before he lost his nerve. ‘And I know this is weird, because you and Vivian just…’ he caught himself, thinking better of going into the whole Charles and Vivian situation. ‘But I think I’d be mad at myself if I didn’t say this before I left. I kinda wish something could happen between us, romantic stylez.’

‘Jake,’ Charles said.

‘I know it can’t,’ Jake said, quickly. ‘Because I’m going undercover, and because of Vivian, and I don’t even know if you… you know.’ Charles was staring at him, wide-eyed, and Jake couldn’t take it. He had done it, he had said what he had to say, and now he had to get out of there. ‘I’m not meant to be talking to you. So, bye.’

He made to walk away.

‘Jake,’ Charles said again, his voice strangled. ‘Wait.’

Jake would have waited forever, if he could. He turned around, put the box down on the curb.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have just… But I couldn’t leave without saying it.’

Charles hooked his non-bandaged fingers around the collar of Jake’s jacket and pulled him into a kiss. It was too chaste, too gentle, over far too quickly.

‘Good luck on your assignment,’ Charles said, his voice hoarse.

‘Charles…’

‘I’ll still be here when you get back.’ Charles let go of Jake’s jacket, took a step back. ‘Bye, Jakey.’

Jake swallowed the lump in his throat, picked up his box, tried to get his brain into gear. Tried to get excited about going undercover. Tried not to think about what he was leaving behind.

‘Bye.’

Going to Shaw’s seemed pointless if Jake wasn’t going to be there, but Charles went anyway. It was better than going home to an empty, Vivian-less room in his ex-wife’s basement to think about how he was going to die alone because nobody loved him.

Except Jake, maybe. Apparently.

_I kinda wish something could happen between us, romantic stylez._

Charles didn’t know what he was supposed to do with that information, how he was supposed to hear that and not do anything about it, how he was supposed to wait for who knew how many months before Jake came back. What exactly he wanted to do about it he wasn’t sure, but surely anything would be better than this.

‘I got you a beer,’ Rosa said, like there weren’t already enough people messing with Charles’ head.

‘Thanks,’ he said. Drinking himself into a stupor seemed like a good idea, all things considered.

The others clearly agreed with him, because they kept plying him with drinks. Gina went to the bar (‘where I can hear you worse,’ she said) and Charles and Rosa and Terry and Amy knocked back their drinks and speculated about Jake’s undercover assignment.

He wanted to talk to Jake. Wanted to say _don’t leave, _wanted to say _I have a thousand questions for you, _wanted to say _let me kiss you again and make you dinner and hang onto you, because you’re the best thing in my life and I don’t wanna lose you too._

That morning, when he had been sitting at his desk eating eggs and thinking about how Vivian loved Canada more than she loved him, Charles had been sure things couldn’t get any worse. But they had, somehow. Now he had no fiancé, a burnt hand, and a whole lot of complicate feelings about his best friend.

Gina came back from the bar with a round of shots. ‘What’s up, hoes.’

Charles wasn’t a big drinker (‘you’re such a lightweight!’ Jake had slurred on more than one occasion), but tonight he happily downed whatever was put in front of him. When he got up at the end of the night, the ground felt like it was tilting.

‘I’m so lucky to have you guys,’ Charles said, sadly, as they stumbled out onto the sidewalk together.

‘It’s all gonna be fiiiiiine,’ Amy said.

‘You should all drink some water,’ Terry said.

And then, somehow, Amy and Terry and Rosa were all gone.

‘I need another drink,’ Gina said. ‘Wanna come?’

‘Sure,’ Charles said, even though the world was shifting woozily around him and another drink was probably the last thing he needed. But still – empty basement. No Vivian. No Jake.

Gina pulled him into a cab. Charles didn’t know where they were going, didn’t mind. If this night kept going, he wouldn’t have to deal with any of his problems. The cab pulled up somewhere- another bar? Everything was fluorescent lights in the dark night.

Gina stumbled into him, and Charles caught her, and she laughed and said, ‘I can’t believe I’m gonna do this.’

‘Do what?’

And then she kissed him. And so much had happened today that nothing else could shock him – or maybe it was the five (or six? Or seven?) drinks coursing through his system, so Charles kissed her back. Something else to drown his sorrows in.

‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘Eggplant, winky face.’ She started laughing again; Charles had never seen her loose like this. She pulled him towards a building and up the steps to the front door, fumbling in her bag, and only then did Charles recognise Jake’s old neighbourhood.

Inside, he kissed her again. She tugged his coat down his shoulders, let it fall to the floor. Charles tried to take off her sweater, remembered that his hand was bandaged, let her do it herself, kissed her bare shoulders. And then she dragged him over to her bed and they awkwardly manoeuvred out of as many clothes as they could. She kissed him, climbed on top of him, her hands everywhere.

‘You’re amazing,’ Charles said, as she made drunk, irritated love to him.

‘I know.’ Gina pushed her hair back, unaffected except for her heavy breathing. ‘You can stop talking now.’

Charles gripped her hips as best he could, moved them so he was on top, and stopped talking in favour or getting a better reaction out of her.

Somewhere, on the other side of Brooklyn, Jake was charming his way into the Eunucci crime family and telling the sad, regretful part of his brain to shut up.


	2. Chapter 2

It felt like Jake had been gone a lot longer than six months. But, somehow, when he walked into the bullpen, it felt like he had never left. Rosa filled him in on what he’d missed, and Amy told him about arresting a perp with a funny name, and Gina hugged him, and Charles just beamed at him. Because Jake was _back_, and now they could figure out where they stood.

‘Hey, Charles, can I just talk to you alone for a sec?’ Jake said.

‘Absolutely.’ Charles’ voice came out an octave higher than normal.

He followed Jake into the evidence lockup.

‘So…’ Jake fidgeted with the cuff of his jacket.

Charles couldn’t stop looking him over for signs of damage. He wanted to ask if Jake was okay, wanted to tell him about Gina, wanted to push him against the nearest surface and kiss him. Wanted to make him promise not to leave again.

‘I’m so glad you’re back,’ he said.

‘Yeah,’ Jake said. And then, in a rush, ‘I know we left things kinda weird.’

‘We did,’ said Charles. ‘I was… confused about it.’

‘Oh,’ Jake said. ‘Yeah, coolcoolcoolcool, me too. And I just wanted to say, I hope it won’t make things weird. I was just scared about going undercover, and you were there, and… yeah, weird and confusing.’

‘Oh.’ Charles felt deflated. And then he played Jake’s words over again in his mind, and he felt worse than deflated – he felt weighed down, like he was sinking. ‘Well. I’m glad you’re back. I have to go… photocopy some paperwork.’

Gina cornered him by the photocopier and made him swear not to tell Jake they had hooked up. And then Jake tracked him down again, this time buzzing with energy and begging him for help in catching the last member of his mafia family.

Charles didn’t care about the case – all he wanted was for things with Jake to make sense again. For them to be something, or else to somehow forget all about their last conversation before Jake went undercover and go back to being uncomplicated friends.

‘Sure,’ he said.

They went to a bar looking for information, and Jake told Charles to hit him in the face, and he did, probably too hard. He felt bad looking at the red welt on Jake’s browbone and the cut in his lip, but he hadn’t been thinking right, his mind too wrapped up in everything.

When he had talked to Jake that night outside the precinct, he had been unsure. Confused. And then he had had six months to think about it, to dwell on it, and had come out sure that he wanted what Jake wanted. But apparently Jake didn’t like him that way, not really, or not anymore, and Charles was left to figure out where that left him.

At Shaw’s, apparently, with Gina.

‘Thanks for not telling Jake,’ she said, and it was a moment of genuine feeling from her, even if that feeling was embarrassment.

Charles didn’t mind. He got them both another drink, and then, somehow, they were kissing again, and Charles was trying his hardest not to think about Jake. He focused on Gina’s hand resting on his leg under the table, her silky hair between his fingers.

He went home with her again. In the past year, Charles had met someone, got engaged, got his heart broken, got his heart broken _again_, and started his first casual relationship. His first secret, shameful, sexual-but-not-romantic relationship. Friends with benefits, in which none of the benefits was friendship.

Rosa, who was somehow the least complicated thing in his life, helped him find somewhere to live that wasn’t his ex-wife’s new husband’s basement. Somehow it was even more depressing, sitting by himself surrounded by his sparse furniture, so he went to Gina’s apartment and cooked her dinner and had casual, emotionless sex with her. And then he went home, feeling anything but emotionless.

He still missed Jake, even though Jake was right there. But he didn’t know how to talk to him, avoided him as best he could through the Jimmy Jab games and then the Halloween Heist. He felt hopeless, lost, floundering. He wanted his best friend back.

Through his time undercover, Jake had been almost sure he had something good to come back to. But, apparently, that lamplit kiss had been a fluke, and Jake was destined to die alone. Which was probably going to be soon, because there was a mole in the Nine-Nine and if Holt found out that Jake had left case files all over the place, he was going to kill him.

‘You know we’re not allowed to take files home, right?’ Amy said, as they drove to Jake’s old apartment. ‘And we definitely can’t leave them there after we move!’

‘That is so far from being my biggest problem right now.’ He parked, and they got out of the car. Gina didn’t answer when he knocked on the door – probably couldn’t hear over the dance music playing. Jake dug out his key and opened the door.

They saw Charles and Gina at the same time. Sprawled across the couch, Gina between Charles’ legs, her face pressed into his neck.

At the same time, Jake and Amy said, ‘Oh my god.’ And at the same time, they screamed.

Gina threw herself over the back of the couch, which seemed like a reasonable reaction, and Charles tugged a pillow onto his lap. Jake looked at his feet, at a wall, at Amy, anywhere but the sliver of skin showing between the lapels of Charles’ robe.

‘What _is_ this?’ Amy said.

‘It’s not what it looks like,’ Gina said, standing up from behind the couch, her robe now pulled tight around her. Both robes were the same – silk and covered in wolves.

‘It’s _not_?’ said Charles.

Gina sighed dramatically. ‘I suppose it is, in fact, what it looks like.’

Charles got to his feet, tightening his own robe. ‘Gina and I are casual lovers,’ he said.

‘Gross,’ said Gina.

‘This whole thing is gross,’ Jake said, glaring at the air somewhere beside Charles. ‘I’m gonna get my files and go.’ He walked over the bookshelves, grabbed the box of files, glanced back at Amy.

‘Right,’ she said. ‘Let’s go.’

‘Wait,’ Charles said. ‘Jake.’

Jake walked out of the apartment, trying not to think about another time Charles had asked him to wait.

‘Why are you so mad?’ Amy said, in the car on the way back to the precinct.

‘Because...’ was all Jake could manage. ‘Because!’ _Because I told him that I liked him, that I wanted him. Because I thought he wanted me back. Because he chose Gina over me. _‘Because it’s weird!’ he said. ‘It’s like if you were secretly hooking up with, I don’t know, Terry. Captain Holt. Hitchcock.’

Amy made a face. ‘It’s not _that_ bad.’

‘Whatever,’ said Jake. ‘I just wanna take these stupid files back to work, and figure out who the stupid mole is. It’s probably Charles. Who even knows what else he’s doing.’

Amy glanced over at him from the driver’s seat, confused, worried. ‘This is really getting to you.’

‘No it isn’t,’ Jake said. ‘Whatever. Charles can be _casual lovers_ with whoever he wants.’

Jake avoided Charles at work. Gina got up on a chair and announced the affair, and its end, to the entire bullpen. Jake didn’t look at her. He went to a bar with Terry, and it only took half a drink before his problems were spilling out of him.

‘Why is dating so hard?’ he complained. ‘Having feelings is the worst.’

‘You just need to put yourself out there,’ Terry said. ‘And don’t talk about work stuff, okay? The best thing Terry ever did was talking to women about things _other_ than being a cop.’

And Terry was a pretty good authority when it came to dating, so Jake took his advice, and soon he was leaving the bar with a super-hot lady called Sophia.

After a week of no talking, Jake came over to Charles’ desk and asked for help with a case. It seemed like things were back to normal, almost. They worked together, bonded over a shared frustration with Jack Danger and USPS, chatted and joked around and high-fived.

At least, until the stakeout. Four days if they found a relief team, eight if they didn’t. Just the two of them, rattling around a tiny, decrepit apartment. Sleeping in shifts, getting annoyed by the slightest thing each other did. Making ‘no no’ lists that started out short, but grew like mould over the walls.

‘Why haven’t we talked about it?’ Jake said, suddenly.

‘I thought we weren’t allowed to talk about _anything_,’ Charles shot back.

‘I told you I liked you!’ Jake said, like the words were bursting out of him. ‘And then I went undercover! And when I came back you were screwing Gina!’

He got up, paced around, grabbed his basketball and bounced it off the wall. Charles watched him, wondering how he had screwed up so badly.

‘I didn’t think you...’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to...’

‘But you kissed me!’ Jake said. ‘I thought you felt the same as I did!’

Charles wanted to reach out to him, wanted to hold him still, wanted him to _listen_. But if Jake did listen, what would he say? What could he say that would make things right? He didn’t understand what Jake wanted – and Jake had a _girlfriend_ now. What did he want Charles to do?

The basketball hit the window, shattering it with a clatter of breaking glass. There was a moment of silence, and then the ball hit the ground.

‘Oh fuck,’ Jake said.

The stakeout was a disaster, in more ways than one. Holt sent them on door duty and they caught up with Alexi Bisco, going through the motions of arresting him, not looking at each other, not talking about anything except work.

‘I don’t know what to _do_,’ Charles said to Rosa one night at Shaw’s. He was a couple of drinks in and feeling the full weight of his despair.

‘Drink,’ she said.

‘I didn’t even tell you what the problem is!’ he protested.

‘Doesn’t matter. The answer is drink.’

‘Hey, guys.’ Terry and Gina joined them. Jake and Amy were here too, somewhere, but Charles was pretty confident they wouldn’t come over. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Boyle’s sad about something,’ Rosa said.

‘I’m not hooking up with you again,’ Gina said.

‘I don’t want you to,’ Charles said.

Terry looked at him quizzically. ‘Is this something to do with why you and Jake aren’t talking to each other?’

Charles nodded morosely.

‘I told you,’ said Rosa. ‘Get drunk. Maybe break something. You’ll feel better.’ Charles took a swig of his beer; it didn’t help.

‘Do you want the number for my psychic?’ Gina said.

Terry sighed. ‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on. But have you tried _talking_ to Jake? Because he doesn’t seem so happy either.’

Charles finished his beer. ‘I need another drink.’

It got later, and he got drunker. Terry and Gina went home, and it was just him and Rosa, drinking in silence, exactly how she liked it.

‘I really love him, Rosa,’ Charles said, dimly aware that his words were coming out slurred. ‘I just wanna hold his hand and touch his hair and kiss him again and-’

‘Again?’ Rosa said.

‘I kissed him before he went undercover,’ Charles said.

‘I never thought I’d say this,’ said Rosa. ‘But maybe you _do_ need to talk to him.’

‘I know,’ said Charles. ‘But what if I just make everything worse?’

Rosa shrugged. ‘Life’s about risk.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Life's about risk', is the catchphrase of my best friend, so shout out to her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is twice as long as the previous chapters, but I didn't want to divide it up. Thanks for reading!

When Jake broke up with Sophia, Charles heard about it from Amy. And that was wrong, that wasn’t how these things were meant to _work_. So Charles did his best to pull himself together, and went over to Jake’s desk. ‘I’m sorry about Sophia,’ he said.

‘Yeah.’ Jake didn’t look at him.

‘Breakups are the worst,’ Charles said. ‘If you wanna talk, or… whatever. We could do that. I mean, about Sophia.’

‘Thanks, man,’ Jake said.

Charles hadn’t forgotten what Rosa said, but he could hardly throw something like that on Jake just as he was recovering from a breakup – after all, Charles had been there. He knew how confusing it was. So instead he tried to be normal, through the terrorist training drill, through Jake talking nonstop about Sophia, through his father’s wedding to Darlene Linetti.

He and Jake were friends again, almost. Not back to how they had been before Jake’s confession, but at least back to how they were before the stakeout. They danced around the subject, avoided hugs and high-fives, filled nervous silences with work-talk. And still Charles was waiting for that elusive Right Moment.

They went to Montreal to try and help Jake’s dad, even though Charles was pretty sure Roger Peralta was a gigantic jerk. But Jake wanted to help his dad, and Charles wanted to do whatever Jake wanted to do.

‘I’m sorry things didn’t work out with your dad,’ Charles said, in the airport bar after everything had gone down.

Jake took a swig of his beer. ‘Yeah. Well. You were right all along.’

‘But I didn’t _want_ to be right,’ Charles said, desperately. ‘I wanted him to be good.’

He wanted Roger to be a proper dad, because it was obvious how much Jake wanted one. And he had even wanted to find Roger innocent of drug smuggling, if that would make Jake happy. But Jake’s dad being innocent turned out to mean nothing if he was still guilty of being a crappy father, and realising that had made Jake sad and grouchy.

‘Whatever,’ Jake said. ‘Fuck him.’

‘I can’t imagine having you in my life and letting you go like that,’ Charles said.

Jake gave him a look he couldn’t decipher. ‘I guess not everyone’s as nice as you.’

Charles wasn’t trying to be nice, he was just telling the truth. ‘You deserve better,’ he said. ‘You deserve people who love you.’

‘Charles-’ Jake’s voice came out strangled. ‘Stop. I can’t.’

‘Sorry,’ Charles said, hastily. Too much, too fast. Even honesty could be dangerous. ‘I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have – I know you don’t feel that way anymore.’

‘Wait. What?’

‘I should go,’ Charles said.

‘Wait, no,’ Jake said, quickly. ‘Don’t go. Just – what do you mean, I don’t feel that way anymore?’

‘When you went undercover,’ Charles said. He took a deep breath. Here goes. ‘You said you liked me, and I was confused because I’d just broken up with Vivian and it was so out of left field. But obviously I liked you too. Of course I do – you’re _you_ – but you came back and said you didn’t – and that’s fine, I just, I should go.’

‘That’s not what I said.’ Jake shook his head. ‘I never said I didn’t like you anymore. I -God, Charles, I never got over you.’ Charles just stared at him for a moment, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. ‘Don’t go,’ Jake repeated.

‘I…’ Charles moved his hand across the bar until his fingers were just brushing Jake’s. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Jake took his hand. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Why didn’t _you_ say anything?’ said Charles. ‘I thought you didn’t want me to - I thought you needed time after your undercover assignment- I thought you changed your mind.’

‘I didn’t.’

Charles said what he’d been thinking for months. ‘I’m sorry about Gina.’

‘No, don’t,’ said Jake. ‘You can do what you want. I’m sorry for getting so mad.’

Charles broke into a smile. ‘It’s okay. None of that matters anymore.’

And Jake was smiling too, squeezing his hand. ‘If there wasn’t a million people here,’ Jake said. ‘I would totally kiss you right now.’

‘Do it anyway,’ Charles said.

‘Ooh, kinky.’

‘_Please_,’ said Charles. ‘I can do better than that.’

Jake made a face that was half surprised, half into it. ‘We’re gonna need a follow-up to this conversation,’ he said. ‘But first…’

And he leant over and kissed Charles, oh-so-gentle and almost appropriate for the airport. Charles wanted to kiss him until his lips were numb from it, wanted to pull Jake closer and touch every part of him. But instead he let him go, returned Jake’s smile.

‘I love you,’ he said, the words spilling easily from his lips.

‘Aaand it took you one whole second to go Full Boyle on me,’ Jake said. And then, ‘I love you too.’

‘Sorry,’ Charles said.

‘Don’t be.’ Jake squeezed his hand. ‘We already knew we loved each other, right? We said that when we were just friends. But I want to see how far this can go.’

‘Me too.’

Jake’s eyes flicked to the departures board. ‘Oh crap, we’ve gotta go.’

On the flight home, they talked like they hadn’t in months – in almost a year, since before Jake went undercover. They talked about Jake’s dad, and about Canada, and about whether airline captains had better hats than police captains, about the mimosas they were drinking, and about who that guy was in that one movie.

Charles had a moment of panic as he walked into work the next day, a moment of worrying that everything would have gone back to normal. That the airport bar had been some kind of sleep-deprived fever dream. But Jake walked up to him, grinning, and said, ‘Apparently I’ve got a dope new murder case to work on.’

‘Cool,’ said Charles. ‘What’s so dope about it?’

‘It happened in an ice cream parlour!’ Jake said, his face lighting up. ‘And the back window was broken from the inside! So anyway, I say we take a look at the crime scene and then interview the staff – I already got their details.’

It was so much better than being back to normal. They went to the crime scene, took notes, interviewed suspects, cracked jokes, put together an extremely snazzy case board, and by the afternoon they had managed to pull together enough evidence to arrest one of the servers at the ice cream parlour. They were both buzzing with the energy of a successful case on top of everything else; it was glorious.

‘So where do you wanna go?’ Jake said, sliding the relevant documents into his case file.

‘What?’

‘For the date we’re going on tonight,’ Jake said, looking up at Charles with a grin.

Neither of them had mentioned a date before, but it made sense, of course it did. Charles thought about it for a moment, ran through restaurants and bars and movie theatres in his mind.

‘Your apartment,’ he said. ‘The only thing I wanna do is you.’

Jake smirked. ‘Oh, _really_?’

‘Not like _that_,’ Charles said, and then considered. ‘A bit like that.’

Jake made that face again, the _I didn’t expect that but I love it_ face that made Charles weak at the knees. ‘Definitely my place then.’

Charles left his car at the precinct and rode with Jake to his apartment. He could get the subway home, he figured.

‘So what do you wanna do?’ Jake said when they stepped into his apartment. He dumped his messenger bag on the floor, kicked off his shoes. ‘We could order takeout? Watch a movie?’

‘Anything.’ Charles took his shoes off, left them by the door. He hadn’t been to Jake’s apartment in a long time.

Jake stopped, turned around. Looked at him with his whole face a soft smile. Charles took a step towards him, and Jake pulled him into a kiss.

This time there were no people around, no flight to catch, and Charles looped an arm around him, stood on tiptoes to kiss him better. Jake’s hands made their way down Charles’ back to cup his butt, as he let out little breathless noises in between kisses.

‘Let’s-’ he said, into the side of Charles’ mouth.

‘Let’s,’ Charles agreed, and Jake steered him towards the bedroom.

Jake’s body was just as wonderful as Charles had suspected it would be. And Jake seemed equally enamoured with Charles’ body, kissing his skin like he wanted to savour it. He pulled Charles on top of him, hands at his back, in his hair.

‘What do you want?’ Jake said.

Charles propped himself up enough to look at Jake properly. ‘I want to make love to you.’

Jake made a face. ‘How do you make it sound so gross?’

‘Do you want me to say something different?’ Charles said, innocently. ‘How about, I want to _fuck_ you?’

Jake made an entirely different, much better, face. ‘Oh my god, yes,’ he said.

Charles moved down Jake’s body, lavished his thighs with kisses until Jake was arching his hips off the bed. He wanted to savour the first time, even though he already knew there would be more times. He wanted to learn what Jake liked, wanted to make it perfect for him.

And he did. He found the right movements, the right spots, the things that had Jake gasping and moaning. He learnt that Jake had a birth mark on his hip, that he loved having his hair touched, that his ears were wonderfully sensitive when kissed.

‘I love you,’ Jake said, unprompted, unless having passionate love made to him counted as prompting.

‘I love you too,’ Charles panted, hips stuttering against Jake’s.

‘Oh, _yeah_,’ Jake said. ‘Harder.’

And Charles complied, and Jake groaned and threw his head back and held on to him. And there was no more waiting, no more talking around the subject, this was _happening_. And it was perfect, perfect.

And then, of course, Jake had to go and almost get killed by Sophia’s boss. And once _that_ was over, when it seemed like they might have a moment of plain sailing, Jake fell through a car skylight and cracked three ribs.

They hadn’t told the squad about their relationship yet; it was a new and tender thing, something that needed to be protected. Of course Charles was desperate to tell everyone how much he loved Jake, but he found that that wasn’t so different from his normal behaviour. Nobody seemed to notice anything - except Rosa, who gave him a knowing look.

But then Jake waltzed into work like someone who wasn’t injured – or tried to, anyway. He was moving too awkwardly, almost limping.

‘What are you _doing_ here?’ Charles said.

‘Did the doctor clear you to come back yet?’ Terry said.

‘He definitely didn’t,’ Charles said.

‘I’m fine, I’m _fine_,’ Jake insisted, attempting to saunter over to his desk.

Charles followed him. ‘_Please_ go home.’ He felt helpless, wondering for the first time how his role as Jake’s boyfriend differed from his role as his best friend. He was _sure_ Jake needed to go home and rest, but he didn’t know how to make that happen, and he didn’t want Jake to feel like he was ordering him around, but he was so _worried_ about him -

‘But I got us tickets to the Atlantic City!’ Jake said.

‘_What_?’

It only took a few hours in Atlantic City for Charles to figure out why Jake had taken him there: to work a case. He had _lied_ to him. Their fledgling relationship had been bruised, because Jake was too stubborn to admit he needed to rest.

Charles locked himself in the bathroom, and cried, and pulled himself together, and called Terry. And then he wiped his face and went back to Jake, tried to distract him until the Sarge got there without showing how hurt he was.

When Terry arrived he was fuming, somehow disrespected boss and protective parent all at once.

‘I can’t believe you’d sell me out, _Boyle_,’ Jake said, arms folded across Hawaiian shirt and cracked ribs. ‘When I brought you on this fantastic boyf- _best friends’_ trip to Atlantic City.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ Charles said, helplessly.

‘Don’t be _sorry_!’ Terry yelled, and Charles cowered.

And they argued back and forth until Jake spotted their perp out of the window, and the three of them went after him. They loitered around outside, until he spotted them and ran.

‘Stay here, Peralta!’ Terry yelled, starting after him.

‘Yep,’ said Jake. And then, ‘Nope, I’m gonna cut him off from the alley!’

‘_Jake_,’ Charles pleaded, but Jake was already running.

Charles went after him, around the building, the perp and Terry coming from the opposite direction, Jake gaining on him fastest. And then squealing tyres, headlights, and a sickening crunch.

‘Are you mad at me?’ Jake said, much later.

‘Yes.’ Charles stroked his hair. He was perched awkwardly on the side of Jake’s hospital bed.

‘You don’t _sound_ mad.’

‘Sweetheart, you’ve got internal bleeding.’

‘But I lied to you!’ Jake huffed. ‘And I kept doing the opposite of what you wanted, and I got hit by a car!’

‘I know,’ Charles said. ‘I _am_ upset, but this isn’t the place for that.’

‘Okay, coolcoolcool, you can yell at me when my organs have stopped bleeding or whatever,’ Jake said.

‘I’m not going to yell at you,’ Charles said. ‘I just want you to look after yourself, Jakey.’

The door opened and Terry came in. He did a double-take when he saw them, and then just stood there, looking like he wanted to say something. Charles ignored him, pressed his face into Jake’s hair.

‘I just…’ Jake said. ‘I don’t even know what to do without work.’

‘I know.’

‘Charles, can we talk for a sec?’ Terry said.

‘Okay,’ Charles slid off the bed reluctantly. He looked at Jake. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’ He followed Terry into the corridor.

‘So…’ Terry frowned at him. ‘You and Jake?’

‘Yep,’ Charles said. There was no point in denying it – and it wasn’t like they had anything to hide. ‘We’re lovers now.’

Terry made a face. ‘Look, Terry loves love,’ he said. ‘You know that. But… _Jake_? Really?’

‘_Really_,’ Charles said. ‘The whole thing is new but… I want to see where it goes.’

‘Okay.’ Terry held his palms up. ‘You guys can do what you want. Just make sure you fill out the proper forms with HR, okay?’

‘Thanks, Sarge.’

Jake did something he’d never done before: he took a week off work. He let his cracked ribs and his internal bleeding heal, and spent every day watching movies and waiting for Charles to visit after work.

On his first day back at the precinct, Jake stood on a chair and declared that he had an announcement to make.

‘Are you sure you should be doing that?’ Amy said. ‘You _just_ got back from sick-leave.’

‘I’m totally fine,’ Jake said, trying to hide his grimace. ‘Anyway! Everyone listen up. Me and Charles are together, romantic stylez!’

Charles looked up at him delightedly, and that alone made up for Jake’s aching ribs.

‘You stole that move from me,’ said Gina, without looking up from her phone.

‘Who’s Charles?’ said Scully.

‘I am!’ said Charles, indignantly.

‘Are you guys dating?’

‘Dude, that’s what I _just_ said,’ said Jake.

‘Why didn’t I see it?’ Amy said, looking from Jake to Charles and back again. ‘You guys are so cute. It makes so much sense!’

‘Now’s the part where you take questions,’ Gina said.

‘Sure,’ said Jake. ‘Why not? Anyone got questions?’

‘Who’s the-’ Hitchcock started, but Jake cut him off.

‘Nope! I’m taking questions from anyone except Hitchcock!’

‘How did you get together?’ Amy said, eagerly.

‘It was complicated,’ Jake said. He caught Charles’ eye. ‘But perfect.’

Holt walked out of his office. ‘Peralta, get down from there,’ he said, not angry so much as resigned. ‘Also, I would like to talk to you and Boyle in my office.’

Oh jeez. That sounded bad. Or good? Jake had been getting better at reading the captain’s emotions, but there were limits. He awkwardly stepped down from the chair, and he and Charles followed Holt into his office.

‘I trust this will not… _interfere_ with your work, detectives?’ he said.

‘Absolutely not,’ said Charles.

‘Yeah, we’re gonna keep it super profesh,’ said Jake.

‘Good,’ said Holt. ‘Also… I am glad that you feel able to be open about your relationship. I am proud of you both.’

‘Thanks,’ said Jake, just about stopping himself from adding _Dad_.

When they stepped back out, Rosa looked up at them and said, ‘If either of you start oversharing about your sex life, I will beat you both to a pulp.’

‘I can’t promise anything,’ Charles said.

‘Cooooool,’ Jake said. ‘Coolcoolcoolcool. We’re definitely getting beaten up.’

Rosa smiled. ‘Also, congrats.’

They went back to Charles’ apartment after work, made dinner together, laughed about their co-workers reactions.

‘Are you going to make love to me now?’ Jake said, later, kissing Charles’ jaw.

‘Your ribs are still healing,’ Charles said. ‘And you’ve got-’

‘I know, I know, internal bleeding,’ Jake said. ‘But what if we’re _really_ careful?’

‘Oh?’ said Charles, tilting his head back to give Jake better access to his throat. ‘Are you gonna let me take care of you?’

‘Yes,’ said Jake. He pulled back, made eye contact so Charles would know he wasn’t just talking about sex and some cracked ribs. ‘We’ve waited long enough. I don’t wanna wait anymore.’

Charles took his hand. ‘No more waiting.’


End file.
